Pale gray snowflakes drifted gently down upon the city of Rome.
"I believe," Novia began slowly, addressing the men before him,
"That it's time we compile your letters and written texts into a new covenant—
One that distinguishes us from Judaism.
It will form a new part of the Holy Scriptures."
To Peter, who was listening quietly,
The word "Scripture" stirred something deep within.
Because his fate had long been sealed—
From the shores of the Sea of Galilee,
To the hilltop of Golgotha—he had borne witness.
To the Peter of old, that man had been his everything.
He had never once imagined that man would one day leave him behind.
But that day came.
The day the eleven apostles were forced to accept—
The Passion of Jesus.
To let such a being die—
It was the work of demons. An unforgivable sin.
That sacrifice—who was it for?
What was it all truly for?
If asked, that man would surely smile and say,
"It was for the people of this world, that they might be free from sin."
It was precisely because of this that Peter had always kept a close eye on Paul—
Even though Paul had once publicly rebuked him,
Peter still held great respect for him.
After all, Paul—who once stood against Jesus—
Had become an extraordinary figure, spreading their teacher's faith
Across the Mediterranean and the entire Roman Empire.
By all rights, Peter should have resented Paul.
It was he, not Paul, who had been entrusted with Jesus' will.
He should have been the rightful leader.
But Peter had never seen it that way.
He felt unworthy of such a role.
Because on the night Jesus was taken to be tried by the high priest in Jerusalem,
He—out of fear—had denied knowing his teacher three times.
Even though he was forgiven later,
Peter could never truly forgive himself for such a blasphemous act.
The old man's clouded eyes grew faintly clearer,
As he looked at the silver-haired young man who had invited this gathering—
The boy he had once seen in Paul's company, now all grown up.
Not only had Novia accomplished feats beyond anything they could have imagined,
He had also avenged the lingering grief the eleven apostles had buried deep in their hearts.
Novia's true purpose in summoning them was simple:
He hoped they could compile their letters and accounts into part of a new Bible.
He also asked that each of them help oversee the foundation of Christianity in at least one province—
Because the faith was now spreading too quickly, too wildly.
The sunlight was dazzling.
Peter closed his eyes slowly.
Perhaps it was the brightness outside,
But his tears slipped down his cheeks uncontrollably.
"This... this is how it was always meant to be..."
Peter exhaled deeply,
And bowed his head—deeply, and again more deeply.
"Hey, Peter, what's with the faraway look? You're not that young anymore, you know. Today's a day worth celebrating."
Paul, sitting beside him, clapped a hand on Peter's shoulder.
"My sincerest apologies,"
Peter murmured, gently shaking his head in an attempt to hold back the tears.
"You did nothing wrong. If anyone was wrong, it was me."
"That's not true."
"I once scolded you in public. It must've been humiliating."
"No… not at all. I—back then, and even now— I surely..."
In the haze of Peter's vision, he saw his teacher.
"...surely..."
That man—
"He surely would've been pleased.
I once heard Jesus tell you—
To never give in, to cast your net into the sea again,
To walk on water, to look your weakness in the eye,
To walk the path of the cross, to lay down your life for your brothers,
And to tend to His flock.
So please, be glad.
What the world needs more of isn't superhumans—
But those who are genuinely human."
"You are the indisputable rock—solid and dependable like stone.
Both Paul and I have always believed that.
We should all be more like you."
Novia smiled as he said this to Peter,
Who looked as though he might cry at any moment.
Seeing the silver-haired youth's gentle smile,
Peter suddenly wanted to laugh.
But if he laughed, his tears would surely spill over.
He remembered the words Jesus once said to him—
"I will give you the keys to the kingdom of heaven.
Whatever you bind on earth will be bound in heaven,
And whatever you loose on earth will be loosed in heaven."
Funny, now that he thought about it—
He no longer felt like giving that key up.
This child's words had reminded him of what their teacher had once said.
Peter's wounded heart had regained its strength.
"Novia,"
Peter called, his expression now serious—
So serious that it drew a hush over the room.
"Yes?"
Looking into Novia's sea-blue eyes,
Peter saw a reflection of the confident man he once was.
He looked down at his hands,
Then clutched tightly the simple key that hung around his neck.
As if confirming its weight and meaning,
He gripped it firmly in his palm.
"I've made up my mind.
I will entrust this—to you."
He wasn't sure if the Teacher would be angry,
But really, none of this had been his doing.
It was Novia who had walked this path.
Knowing Jesus' temperament, He likely wouldn't be angry.
With that in mind, Peter continued:
"This was always meant to be yours to build.
I only held onto it until you came."
"...I understand."
Novia bowed low as Peter solemnly placed around his neck
The Key to the Kingdom of Heaven—
Once gifted to him by Jesus, the Savior.
Just like the Staff Martha had once given him,
Novia had never dared to covet these things—
Because their meaning, to the ones who offered them, was far too great.
But just like that day with Martha,
Peter now looked at him with honest, unwavering eyes—
Eyes filled with trust and pride.
No falsehood.
Just simple, genuine emotion.
And every time Novia saw that—
His throat would go dry.
He could never bring himself to refuse.
The conversation ended with quiet applause from everyone present.
The next step was to compile Novia's proposed New Testament,
And afterward, determine which provinces each person would help build up Christianity in.
The New Testament's compilation was about a century earlier than in original history—
But the content differed little:
Four Gospels, one historical book, and twenty-one epistles.
The only major changes were:
A line added in one of Paul's letters:
"Tius of Rome is a saint, descended from Martha of Bethany."
And the absence of the prophetic book traditionally written by the Apostle John on the island of Patmos in 90 AD—Revelation.
Meanwhile, during the editing process,
Narbareck finally found the person Novia had asked him to locate: Locusta.
When Novia learned why they'd failed to find the mushroom girl for so long,
He was somewhere between exasperated and amused—
But also… strangely relieved.
Apparently, a few years ago,
Locusta discovered that Christians received food and were no longer treated as pariahs.
So she simply joined a local church within the city—
Even going so far as to change her name.